The war took my people to Khartuom <br />The war destroyed my people <br />The war destroyed their culture <br />The war destroyed their identity <br />The war lost their values and ethics <br /> <br />My people in Khartoum <br />They walk barefoot <br />They beg on the streets <br />They sleep on street <br />They sleep in open air <br />They sleep under unfinished skyscrapers <br />They’re chased anytime under skyscrapers <br />They sleep in tents of cardboards <br />They sleep in tents of sisal and nylon sacks <br />They eat leftovers from Northern dining tables <br />The children scavenged in dust pin <br /> <br />My tears drop, dropp ….dropp hundred <br />Times for their suffering <br />My mouth jeers, jeers ….jeers hundred <br />Times for their suffering <br />May my people sail on my tears home South <br />The war is over <br />Go home and build your beautiful grass houses <br />That don’t leak like cardboard and sack tents <br />Go and cultivate the land of your fathers <br />Leave Khartoum, leave Khartoum <br />Where there’re first, second and third classes <br />Of people<br /><br />David Aoloch Bion<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-people-in-khartoum/
